A/N: Happy Christmas to all of you, wherever you are, and if you don't celebrate Christmas, Happy Random Chapter Day. We've been dealing with severe weather, landslides, road erosion (into the sea) and whatnot where I live. I hope everyone else is safe and warm.

/\/\/\/\/\

Sending Cygnus off to make up with Hermione had taken more willpower than Orion wanted to admit—even to himself; he had enjoyed being the single focus of her attention. He had never been a kind, generous wizard. He was a Black, after all. Orion had always been the sort of wizard that focused on his own well-being and his family's well-being first. Then again, Cygnus and Hermione were both family so that changed things.

At the same time, he would do anything to keep Hermione from being as miserably unhappy as she had been the last couple of days. He shook his head while he undressed, slipping into his sleeping long pants. When his door opened, Orion assumed it would be Sirius or Regulus. He was not prepared to see Cygnus striding into his room with their Keeper in his arms.

"I believe you have the wrong bedroom, Cygnus," Orion pointed out drily.

Cygnus rolled his eyes. "Very amusing, Orion. Hermione's hurt her ankle. You have always been the best at healing spells."

Before Cygnus was finished speaking Orion was already moving to his bed where Cygnus had set Hermione. He took her normally slender ankle in his fingers and gently pressed around the already swollen flesh. Cygnus took Hermione's face in his hands and kissed her gently.

"I will be right back, I promise you," he told her solemnly. He nodded at Orion and then he hurried from the room.

"What's going on?" Orion asked. He looked up at Hermione and cocked one black brow at her.

"I told Cygnus that I would probably have nightmares tonight, and that I needed at least one of you… maybe both of you. Also… I can't deal with Sirius or Regulus right now," Hermione explained in a halting voice.

She lifted her chin defiantly, and Orion had to bite back a smile at her show of bravado. He pulled out his wand and began casting diagnostic spells over Hermione's ankle. He hissed slightly at the results.

"It's broken," he sighed. "That means Skele-Gro for you, and we're going to have to figure out a way to immobilize your ankle. If you have a nightmare it might damage all of the work the Skele-Gro will have done."

"If I have a nightmare, and I'm immobilized, that might cause me to panic even more," Hermione countered with a frown.

"That's true," Orion agreed. "What do you suggest?"

"If both you and Cygnus are with me then I should be fine," she offered shyly.

"I don't have a problem with that," Cygnus added from the door. He closed it behind him with a smooth snick and then walked toward them. Orion noted that he had changed into pyjamas and a dressing gown. "Sirius and Regulus are none too happy. You'll need to speak to them tomorrow, Hermione."

"I know." Hermione seemed to slump in Orion's bed.

"It will be fine," Orion said firmly. "They know you are unhappy, and they want to do whatever they can to fix it."

"I can second that," Cygnus agreed. "It killed me to know that you were unhappy, and that I was the cause."

"It would upset any of us." Orion rose from his place and grabbed a cut-glass tumbler from the bedside table.

Moving across his room, Orion made his way to a small cabinet where he kept healing potions. He quickly selected the bottle of Skele-Gro, poured a measure into the tumbler, moved back to Hermione, and held out the glass silently. She choked down the concoction, and handed back the tumbler, making a face as she did so.

"Perhaps we can discuss this Parkinson chit and why you feel that she is no threat to us, and more specifically, to you." Orion changed the subject with a bland smile that didn't fool Cygnus or Hermione.

"Draco would never suggest anyone that he didn't trust completely," Hermione explained. She twisted her fingers in her lap. "Pansy was an obnoxious twat at Hogwarts, but… so was I. There must be something more to her if Draco is willing to risk himself and his House by recommending her."

"That is logical," Orion allowed with a faint grimace.

Hermione gave him a fond smile. "Logic has its uses."

"Very few when our lovely Keeper panics over Potter," Cygnus said with a snort of amusement.

Hermione scowled up at Cygnus. "Harry is my best friend," she huffed. "And he has a horrible habit of getting himself into trouble."

"And dragging you along for the ride," Orion reminded her.

Hermione sighed. "I… that's true. And I understand that I need to be more careful, but… when he is in danger it's difficult for me to remember how much has changed."

"He wasn't in any danger," Cygnus muttered. "You were."

"I'm sorry that I scared all of you," Hermione said to her lap.

"We know you are, Hermione," Orion replied.

Carefully, Cygnus lifted Hermione while Orion pulled back the blankets. Both wizards fussed with her ankle until Cygnus transfigured a pillow so that it cupped her ankle, propping it up while keeping it immobile.

"How's that?" Orion asked her.

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "That might work."

With a nod of satisfaction, Orion placed the blankets around her whilst making sure that her ankle was free. Cygnus slipped out of his dressing gown and slid into Orion's bed next to their Keeper. Orion got into his bed on Hermione's other side and cast a wandless, non-verbal Nox at his bedroom lamps.

It took a few moments of arranging themselves around Hermione, but eventually Orion was stretched out next to her with an arm wrapped securely around her waist. The steady heat of Cygnus' arm wrapped about her ribs, just under her breasts, was somehow soothing. Orion absently kissed Hermione's temple and then settled down into his bed. He could feel Cygnus relaxing as well with their Keeper trapped snugly between them. No one could get to her, or hurt her, at the moment. Not without going through both Orion and Cygnus. Orion felt sleep tug at him, and for the first time in weeks he went gladly—secure in Hermione's safety.

/\/\/\/\/\

Knowing that you had done something to upset someone—that was a normal condition of Sirius Black's life. He had spent most of his time at Hogwarts upsetting people; knowing that he had hurt someone… aside from the occasional prank gone horribly; horribly wrong… that was new and different. Knowing that he had hurt Hermione—the very thought made him ill. He wanted to apologize right away—to fix it immediately. To be told that Hermione needed some time and some space hadn't gone over well.

Bright, piercing, cruel daylight stabbed at Sirius's eyes pitilessly. He groaned helplessly and tried to turn away from the evil, evil sun only to find that he'd somehow managed to twist himself up in his blankets and he was basically trapped.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and tried to wiggle in the blankets.

Around him, in a spiral of destruction, lay the rest of his bedroom. Sirius closed his eyes and sighed. Fuck. He couldn't let emotions take over anymore. It was far too important that he keep his head and keep in control. Slowly and carefully he wiggled out from the bedclothes that had wrapped around him during the night.

Standing naked in the middle of his room, he contemplated the mess that his fear and insecurity had wrought, and felt embarrassment swamp him. This was the sort of stupid, emotional vomit that he would have spewed when he was a snot-nosed teenager. Back then, James, Peter, and Remus had been there to bolster him up, and Lily had been there to bawl him out for being a jackass. Now… well, Remus was the only friend he had left, and he had his own wife and small son to worry about.

With a sigh he scrubbed at the side of his face. Being a maudlin git was not on his to-do list today.

"Accio wand," he called out.

Thank Merlin, his wand wasn't broken or damaged. A few spells and his room was back to rights again. Sirius turned in a circle, making sure that he hadn't missed anything.

"Sirius? Are you awake? I've just spoken with Regulus. I'm sorry that I made you both wait until this morning—it's just that I was so… oh my." Hermione stood frozen in his doorway with her hand on the door handle. Her mouth had dropped open and she blinked at him with wide eyes.

"Hermione! How is your ankle? Cygnus said that you injured it?" Sirius asked with a frown—his first thought for Hermione's safety.

"It's fine. Orion gave me Skele-Gro and checked on it this morning," Hermione explained.

"Skele-Gro… it was broken?" Sirius' voice rose slightly.

"It was an accident," Hermione huffed. She shook her head. "I tripped and fell."

"I'm glad that you're feeling better," he told her in a gentle voice that few people ever got to hear. "Did you want to come in?"

Hermione stared at him until he sighed and moved toward his dresser. He pulled out a pair of slacks and pulled them on, buttoning them up quickly.

"Better?" He demanded.

Pink stained her cheeks, and Hermione slipped into his room—shutting the door behind her. She clasped her hands in front of her and did her best to avoid looking at his naked chest. He smirked at her.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?" Sirius teased.

The pink of her cheeks grew even darker.

"Of course I do," she snapped. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I didn't come here to… to…"

"Ravish my poor innocent body?" Sirius suggested with a wicked smirk.

"Sirius!" Hermione protested.

"Perhaps later?" Sirius waggled his eyebrows at her. At Hermione's angry huff and the stamp of her foot he held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I promise to behave, for now."

"I… you can't ignore me," Hermione blurted out. Her eyes sought out his, wide and worried. "From now on, if you're mad at me—then yell at me—but don't… don't shut me out."

"I won't," Sirius swore to her. "Hermione, we had no idea that you would… we didn't know."

"I understand, but… it still hurt," she whispered.

"I know and we're sorry for that, sweetheart. You have no idea how sorry," Sirius said fervently. "It's just… our oaths to Arawn bind us just as surely as your own. To have you in danger is… it's a strain on our oaths and it makes us all jittery, anxious, and slightly nauseated."

"I will try to be more careful," Hermione promised.

"And we will try not to shut you out," Sirius added with a slight smile. At Hermione's slight nod, his smile grew. "How about that ravishing?"

"Sirius!" Hermione glared at him.

Sirius pouted at her. "But I've missed you," he wheedled.

Slowly, Hermione inched forward until she was standing in front of him. His pupils widened, swallowing the bright silver of his eyes until there was just a ring around the pupil. He reached out gently and stroked her jaw with the tips of his fingers.

"I've missed you, too," she confessed softly.

The soft press of her lips against his made his blood sing. Never had any woman affected him the way this one did. His fingers slid over her shoulders and down her arms, his thumbs stroking lightly at the bend of her elbows. She made a mewling noise that he swallowed greedily. Sirius moved her toward the wall where he crowded against her pressing against her from shoulder to knee. She pulled away from his lips to moan in his ear.

"Sirius, please," she panted.

"Ravishing now?" He asked before he licked a stripe up her neck.

"Oh… Merlin, yes, please. Now," she demanded.

Sirius gave a dirty chuckle and smirked to himself. She really had no idea how bossy she was.

"What do you want me to do?" He purred against her throat.

"I—I… touch me," she commanded.

Buttons slid through holes easily until Hermione's clothes pooled at her feet. Sirius' breath caught in his throat once Hermione's body was exposed to his gaze. Reverently, he caressed her collarbones with his thumbs before he let his fingers trail down until they grazed Hermione's breasts. When she quivered beneath his hands, he kissed her until they were both gasping for air.

"Hermione," he groaned.

"More," she gasped.

Sirius slid to his knees, pressing kisses against the thick scars that covered her sternum. Hermione's fingers slid into his hair and tightened. A wordless litany fell from her lips, babbling that urged Sirius onward. His fingers traced down her belly and rubbed against her hip before slipping down further until they were sliding between her thighs. He stifled a whimper against her skin. So wet. She moved against his fingers making needy noises in her throat that went straight to his cock.

It took a moment to slip out of his pants without taking a hand off of her. Then he stood up and picked up Hermione. She shrieked in surprise and grabbed at his shoulders. Sirius growled playfully and nipped at her throat again. Hermione giggled and tried to nip back. Sirius tossed her onto his bed and then pounced on her.

"Sirius," she squealed as he blew a raspberry against the skin of her hip. The giggles shifted to moans as Sirius worked his way down her body.

Once Hermione was a quivering, moaning mess Sirius balanced over her on his hands. Her skin shone with a sheen of sweat, and her eyes were unfocused in her pleasure. Hermione's fingers clutched at his shoulders. Sirius shifted above her and he nudged her until she focused on him.

"Ready, sweetheart?" He asked her gently.

Hermione nodded frantically. "So ready," she replied. "Now, Sirius. Please."

Nerve endings were firing all over Sirius' skin—everywhere Hermione touched him, he burned, and everywhere she didn't touch him tingled with need and want. The urge to bury himself in Hermione and never come up for air was strong. He slipped his hands under her ass and tilted her hips just-so before he thrust into her.

The feel of Hermione all around him was almost too much. The smell of her filled his nostrils and her soft cries filled his ears. He began to move against her and she met him thrust for thrust. Fire sparked along his spine, and he could feel his body tighten. Merlin, what this woman did to him.

"Sirius," Hermione moaned. "Sirius, please, I-"

With a roar of triumph, Sirius let go and allowed his orgasm to wash over him. Hermione clenched around him and shook with her own release. Sirius clutched her to him, caressing her hair and pressing light kisses along her brow, gentling her through the aftershocks. Hermione curled around him, clinging to him, and Sirius wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

/\/\/\/\/\

"Are there any special Yuletide customs that I'm supposed to follow?" Hermione asked worriedly. "Is there anything that you need to do?"

"The Winter Solstice is being special to House Elves. It is a time of family and renewing connections," Minnie explained. She waved a small hand. "We is leaving for Solstice night, and the kobold is keeping an eye on things while we is gone. The young Masters is already knowing and being prepared for this."

If there was one thing that drove Hermione mad—it was being ignorant about something. Still, she was being given the opportunity to change all of that, and she was grateful for it.

"Ah. Is there anything that I am supposed to do?" Hermione asked curiously.

Minnie turned to eye her critically. "There is the kobold, of course. Missy Keeper is supposed to take a big coal from his fire and keep it in a warming pan. Then Master Orion is supposed to let the old fire die. The other young Masters will bring in the new wood, and Missy Keeper will light the new fire with the coal of the old fire."

Hermione turned to look at the kobold who was watching her with an intense solemnity from within his flames.

"But… won't that hurt the kobold? To take away his fire?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"Yes and no," Minnie replied. "The kobold needs his fire, but the ceremony represents the renewal of his fire, and it shows that Missy Keeper and the young Masters will protect his fire and keep it burning in the new year."

"I see," Hermione said slowly. She supposed that it made a sort of sense; a lot of magic had to do with intent.

"Do not worry. The young Masters will help Missy Keeper with everything," Minnie announced with an air of finality.

"Right. Of course. Um, I hope that you have a good evening… renewing your connections," Hermione offered.

Minnie nodded. She looked to the kobold. "May your fire be bright and burn long," she intoned.

The kobold flickered his flames and nodded to Minnie.

"Is Minnie ready?" Jinx poked her head into the kitchen. "It is being time, Minnie."

"Minnie is on her way," Minnie replied. She turned and nodded to Hermione. "Minnie will see Missy Keeper tomorrow."

The fire ceremony took some time to prepare. Apparently, Sirius, Cygnus, and Regulus had all gone out during the day and found 'the right sort of wood'. Hermione had been curious as to what that might mean, and her wizards had expounded at length as to what wood was considered proper for a kobold's yule fire. In the end they had each made a small bundle of wood, and each bundle was secured with vine.

"Is that normal?" Hermione had asked curiously, pointing to the vine wrapped about each bundle of wood.

Regulus had frowned down at the bundles for a moment and then realization flickered in his features. "Yes, actually. Huh. I had never really thought about it, but yes. It's always vine that binds the yule bundles."

"Minnie said that I'm supposed to take the coal in a warming pan," Hermione fretted, anxious to make sure that she did everything properly.

"It's actually on the chatelaine," Regulus told her. He motioned at her chest. "It's the wee dish that is connected to a pair of tongs. Just… let it know that you're using it for the yule fire."

Her fingers barely touched the coal pan and tongs, and she could feel the by-now familiar sensation of one of the chatelaine's memories.

When Kalogreant had appeared at her father's smithy, it had been a godsend; Hazecha's quick mind had been stifled at the forge. Kalogreant's promise of a Library and books at a great school for people like her had been alluring. Durmstrang was everything that Kalogreant had promised, and more. Being a Muggleborn didn't even slow her down. Hazecha had excelled at every task that had been set for her, and developed an affinity for fire elementals and air elementals, which had confused everyone except Kalogreant and Hazecha.

In the final year of her apprenticeship, Kalogreant helped her choose where to spend her time as a journeyman.

"I think that you might do well in England," he suggested. "There are several elemental workers that you might learn from, and there are always smithies that will pay dearly for someone like you to woo a kobold to their forge."

"I suppose," Hazecha agreed slowly.

"We call it being a 'journeyman' for a reason, Hazecha," he reminded her. "Travel can be good for a witch or a wizard. You have a chance to learn new magics, and to teach others."

"I'll do it," Hazecha decided.

Kalogreant grinned at her proudly and nodded.

England had proved interesting, and its people even more so. Hazecha had made a few friends, a few business acquaintances, and had met a few people that she did her best to avoid. She had done her best to avoid making enemies. Durmstrang counselled that making enemies was bad for one's health.

Currently, she was doing a favour for a fellow elemental-worker. Apparently, the wizarding family that she was about to meet was considered to be more trouble than it was worth.

"You'll know them when you see them," Arnulf had muttered and then spat in the snow. "Black as night, the lot of them."

"You must be the Fire Talker," a huge, shaggy wizard rumbled at her.

The Black wizard was wrapped in furs, but he sported a thick, black beard and tanned, swarthy skin the like of which Hazecha had never seen before. In her homeland, skin ranged from so translucent that one could see the blue veins below the skin, to peaches and cream, to a ruddy pink. No one ever tanned in her land, the way they did here in the summers. Her people tended to burn and then peel in the summer's sun.

"I'm Hazecha," she replied. There was obviously no point in arguing the finer points of elemental work with this wizard.

"Hat-secka?" He repeated slowly.

Hazecha rolled her eyes. "Close enough," she told him. Closer than most Englishmen, truth be told.

"I am Harald the Black. Follow me."

It took her hardly any time at all to coax a kobold to live in Blackstone Keep's fire. The surprise had been a wizened witch who spoke Hazecha's mother tongue and offered her hearth space, bread, and beer like a civilized person. In shock, Hazecha had bowed low to the older witch and thanked her.

"My father went to Durmstrang," the witch explained. "But then he came to England a-Viking, and ended up falling in love with a local witch."

"Love happens where it will," Hazecha replied politely.

"So it does," the witch cackled and nodded wisely. She cast a sly glance toward the end of the Great Hall where her grandsons were talking to her eldest son. Then she eyed Hazecha. "Perhaps you would be willing to stay for a bit. These old bones tell me that a blizzard will be blowing in soon. I'd hate for you to be trapped out in it."

Hazecha had blinked in surprise. "I would be grateful to you, Grandmother," she replied respectfully.

"Call me Inga. I am Harald's mother."

By spring, Hazecha was planning her handfasting to Inga's oldest grandson, Patricius.

Hermione blinked and the kitchens swam back into place. She turned around in a circle, staring at what she realized must be one of the oldest parts of the manor. She turned to stare at the kobold who was watching her with an expression of smugness.

"Are you… are you the same kobold that Hazecha bound here?" She asked curiously.

The kobold grinned, showing all its sharp, little teeth, and nodded.

"Hazecha Smithsdottir was one of our strongest Matriarchs," Regulus offered. "She used her ability to work with elements to secure important alliances for our family."

"She was also a Muggleborn," Hermione added with a smile for the kobold.

"But she was also the daughter of a smith. Back then, they were considered almost as magical as witches and wizards," Orion explained with a smirk. "Black wizards have a history of using power in whatever form comes to hand."

"Hmm. And Black witches appear to have a history of manipulating things to their own ends," Hermione countered with her own smirk. "It's good to know that I'm just keeping up the family tradition."

"Inga the Fair was a clever witch," Orion allowed. "And you're definitely keeping up with that family tradition. Are you ready?"

Carefully, Hermione took the now-enlarged pan and tongs and she took the largest coal from the kobold's fire. He nodded his approval. Next, the kobold stood to the side as his fire was quenched and the hearth swept bare. Hermione used a cleansing spell on the stones before the Black wizards laid down their bundles. The kobold inspected the bundles with a small frown, but finally he nodded his approval.

The coal pan had grown warm and Orion handed Hermione a pair of oven mitts to cover her hands. She took them silently and slipped them on. Then she took the pan and the tongs and carefully set the coal in the centre of the three bundles of wood.

"In the depth of winter, fire means the difference between life and death," Orion recited solemnly.

"Fire gives the breath of life," Cygnus added.

"So do we now give our life's breath to the fire," Sirius chimed in.

"So that fire may give us life," Regulus finished.

All four wizards made sure that they had one hand on Hermione, helping her to kneel before the hearth so that she could blow on the coal from last year's fire. The coal glowed brightly and its heat spread to the bundles around it catching them alight. Hermione turned to look up at her husbands her cheeks flushed with triumph. All four of them were watching her with expressions of pride mixed with fond affection. Hermione turned again to find the kobold who was beaming at her again—showing off his pointed teeth.

"It is good to have a true Mistress again," the kobold told her happily, echoing his first words to her. Then he jumped into the fire and it roared to life.

"Well done, Hermione," Orion praised her.

/\/\/\/\/\

This was either the smartest thing that Pansy could do… or the stupidest, and she wasn't sure which it might be. It was true that Sirius Black had a long association with Remus Lupin, and Potter and… Hermione… had always championed their former professor. Still… this wasn't some vague semantic argument that took place in the Slytherin Common Room. This was her life and her future. Fuck.

"Pansy?"

Immediately, Pansy pasted on a bright smile and turned to smile at her little sister, Poppy.

"What is it, love?" Pansy asked with false cheerfulness.

Poppy shuffled her feet, and looked up at Pansy with wide, anxious eyes.

"What if they don't like me?" Poppy asked in a small voice. "What if… what if they make us leave?"

Pansy felt a murderous rage fill her at Poppy's words. She longed to be able to kill everyone responsible for her little sister's fears, but the worst part was that Poppy's fears weren't unfounded. There were several homes that no longer received the Parkinsons, and Poppy understood the reasons why all too well. Pansy swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.

"Won't happen, love," Pansy explained gently. "The people we're going to see… they know all about our family."

"And they still invited us?" Poppy demanded sceptically.

Pansy smirked at her little sister with pride. Poppy was already such a perfect Slytherin.

"Well, they know all about our family," Pansy repeated slowly. "And I asked if I could invite you as well."

Poppy frowned. "Pansy…"

"Trust me, Poppy. It will be all right," Pansy swore to her little sister.

Poppy snorted derisively. "That would be a first," the little girl muttered.

"Come along," Pansy said firmly. "We're going to see Draco and Floo from Malfoy Manor."

/\/\/\/\/\

"Where is she?" Harry fretted and paced back and forth in front of the Floo fireplace for the hundredth time.

"She'll get here when she gets here, Harry," Hermione snapped. "Stop pacing, you're making me dizzy."

Everyone else had arrived hours ago, but that was because Hermione had tasks for all of them. Lucius Malfoy had Floo'ed in and glowered at everyone until Hermione sent him off with Orion and Cygnus to discuss Wizengamot strategies. She had held a brief conference with Minnie who promised to keep all three wizards plied with good brandy and snacks.

Andromeda, Narcissa, and Tonks had helped Hermione arrange the large parlour to their mutual satisfaction while Sirius frolicked on the floor with Teddy and Remus. Regulus had stood off to the side, stiffly, watching his brother jealously until Hermione nudged him and told him to join his brother. Now Regulus was galloping around the room with Teddy on his shoulders pulling his long hair and shrieking with laughter.

When the Floo flared to life, everyone turned to it. Draco stepped through gracefully, brushed the soot off of his robes and turned back to the grate. The Floo flared again and Pansy stepped through, holding tightly to a small witch. When the little witch looked up at her sister, everyone froze. The silver scars on her small cheeks spoke for themselves. Hermione moved first, and went to stand in front of the little witch who stared up at her with fearful, anxious eyes.

"Welcome to Black Manor," Hermione said gently. "I am Keeper Black, but I would love it if you would call me Hermione."

She offered her hand and the little witch stared at it before looking back up at her sister who nodded reassuringly. The little witch shook her hand gingerly.

"Poppy Parkinson," she replied. "Thank you for inviting me."

"It was my pleasure," Hermione responded automatically. "Why don't we introduce you to everyone here, and then I'll see if the House-Elves have left any cocoa and cookies in the kitchen."

In the meantime, Harry had drifted closer to Pansy and he nudged her gently. She turned to look at him with suspiciously red-rimmed eyes. She took a deep shuddering breath, and suddenly Draco was hovering at her side shooting dark glares in Harry's direction.

"All right, Pansy?" Draco asked.

Pansy nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. It's just… she was so worried that we'd be turned away again."

"I remember that," Remus Lupin offered as he moved toward them. "I'll never forget the first time Mrs. Potter had me come visit. They weren't overly kind, and they didn't go out of their way to welcome me… they just treated me like a normal person… like one of James' friends. I went to bed that night and bawled my eyes out. James was so upset… he thought they'd done something wrong."

Sirius frowned. "I didn't know that," he muttered.

"It's not the sort of thing that I was going to bring up, and James managed to keep his mouth shut every now and again," Remus retorted with a bittersweet smile.

"James was a good friend," Sirius agreed with a nostalgic expression.

"How old is she?" Harry asked curiously neatly changing the subject.

"She'll turn 8 in March," Pansy replied.

A half-smile tugged at Harry's lips and he turned to Draco. "Is that what she looked like at 8?" He asked, jerking his head in Pansy's direction.

Draco snorted. "Merlin, no. Poppy's much prettier."

Pansy smacked Draco on the arm. "Arse," she muttered.

Draco shrugged. "It took you awhile to grow into that nose," he teased.

"You still haven't grown into that pointy chin of yours," Pansy shot back.

"Hey, no flirting with my fake girlfriend," Harry protested. He slipped an arm around Pansy's waist and towed her toward the other side of the room. He paused and released Pansy's waist. "Are you sure you're all right?" He asked quietly.

Pansy nodded. "Yes, thank you, Potter."

"Harry," he said firmly.

Pansy rolled her eyes at him. "Harry."

"We've got to make it look good, right?" Harry pointed out. "We wouldn't look like much of a couple if it was 'Parkinson' this and 'Potter' that."

"Among our set it would seem normal," Pansy countered with a raised brow.

"Maybe, but I'm not dragging you off to some fancy soirée. I'm taking you to the Burrow," he reminded her.

Pansy shuddered delicately. "Ugh. I'd forgotten that bit."

"Kristoff's," Harry said quickly.

Pansy sighed. "Kristoff's," she agreed. She tilted her head and smirked at Harry. "Good save. You might remember that for the future. Whoever Mrs. Potter is—she's going to need some kind of reward for dealing with the assembled Weasley horde."

Dinner was not completely painful. Everyone was on their best behaviour, and Hermione and Harry took turns trying to draw out Poppy. The grateful look in Pansy's eyes had not gone unnoticed by anyone, and no one was surprised that Sirius had begun to treat her with a stiff sort of cordiality. It wasn't often that Sirius was forced to re-evaluate a person's character, but he was willing to admit that he might have misjudged Pansy Parkinson.

After dinner, everyone was carefully herded back into the large parlour where an impressive Christmas tree took up one whole corner all by itself. A small mountain of presents spilled out from underneath it, and Teddy and Poppy stared at it in wonder. Teddy, at a year-and-a-half, wasn't capable of much, but he had managed to have his hair colour back and forth between red and green as though he were a Christmas light.

"Wow," Poppy breathed.

"You know," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I think there might be a few presents in there with your name on them."

"Mine?" Poppy said in surprise.

Hermione frowned. "Well, maybe they're for Pansy. I know I saw labels that started with 'P'," she amended. "Let's look and see."

"I believe that this one is for Poppy," Narcissa Malfoy announced. She pointed to a large, prettily-wrapped package.

"And this one is for Pansy," Andromeda added.

What followed next was a flurry of wrapping paper and excited squeals—mostly from Teddy who was ripping up wrapping paper and throwing it into the air. Poppy soon amassed a pile of presents: witches robes, books, some charmed toys, and a new broom from Harry. The young witch had flung herself at the Potter scion and clutched him so tightly about the throat that he choked slightly.

"This is the best Christmas ever," she declared.

Harry patted her back carefully. "I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure if you would already have one, but Draco said you didn't."

When everyone was distracted, Pansy tugged Harry off to a quiet corner.

"Thank you," she said solemnly. "You didn't have to do any of this."

"Yes, I did," Harry countered firmly.

Pansy snorted and shook her head. "You are such a Gryffindor."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You do know that isn't an insult, right?"

Pansy turned and tried to leave, and frowned when she couldn't move. "What the—"

"Look up," Sirius called from across the room.

Harry and Pansy both looked up and made matching noises of frustration. Dangling above them was Magical Mistletoe—one of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes latest products.

"There's no help for it," Harry muttered at her.

Pansy sighed. "Fine. Just… don't muss my hair."

"I'll do my best," Harry retorted drily.

The chaste press of Pansy's lips to his was electric, and both of them jumped apart in guilty surprise. Unconsciously, Pansy touched her mouth with her fingers. Harry took a step toward her, and Pansy practically flew across the room to hide behind Draco who was watching him with a suspicious frown.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him quietly when he made his way across the room to stand next to her.

"I don't know," Harry muttered. His eyes slid unerringly toward Pansy who was kneeling on the ground and helping Poppy with one of her presents. Pansy looked up at that moment and a delicate flush spread over her cheeks. She immediately turned back to her sister, ignoring him. "I just don't know."

/\/\/\/\/\

"You did very well for your first formal dinner," Cygnus praised Hermione once everyone had left for the evening.

"I think having Poppy helped," Hermione admitted. "I was so worried about making her feel welcome that I had no time to focus on whether or not I would muck it up."

"I'm sure that helped," Orion allowed, "but you really did a wonderful job."

"Thank you." Hermione fidgeted, uncomfortable with the praise.

"Of course, the coup de grace was that Magical Mistletoe," Sirius added with a wicked smirk. "Excellent choice, there, Regulus."

Hermione turned to look at Regulus who was blushing and glaring at his brother.

"That was your idea?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Regulus shrugged and then nodded.

"I think his plan was to trap you under it at least once," Sirius teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You hardly need to trap me to get Christmas kisses," she protested.

"Maybe but it isn't nearly as much fun," Sirius argued shamelessly.

With a roll of her eyes at Sirius, Hermione made her way across the room to sit down in Regulus' lap. She put her arms about his neck and kissed him until they were both breathless.

"Then again, I doubt she would have kissed any of us like that in front of anyone else," Orion observed.

"No, I wouldn't," Hermione tossed over her shoulder. She turned back to look at Regulus who was watching her with a slightly dazed expression. "Happy Christmas, Regulus."

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he murmured in reply and pressed another kiss to her cheek.

"And now it's time for your present from us," Cygnus announced.

Hermione turned in Regulus' lap and frowned up at them. "What present? You already each gave me a present, and I loved all of them."

"True, but this is different," Orion explained. "It took us awhile to find this and to make sure that it was safe for you, but we finally found it."

It was a suspiciously jewellery-shaped box that was long and flat. Hermione opened it cautiously, as though it might bite her. When she lifted the lid she choked on air and Sirius had to pound her back until she could breathe properly. Nestled in a bed of velvet was an eye-watering display of rubies that somehow managed to appear tasteful. A large ruby teardrop hung from the centre of the necklace. As Hermione peered closer she realized that the teardrop was an intaglio with a carefully carved lioness. She gasped and shook her head.

"This is too much," she protested.

"Hermione, we didn't spend a penny on this. It was in the Black family vaults," Orion explained. "It took time to find anything that wasn't green, and to find a piece that didn't have some kind of curse. This was one of the only pieces that fit our requirements."

"It's beautiful," she admitted reluctantly.

"Which was why it was perfect for you," Regulus murmured in her ear.

"Thank you, all of you," Hermione said after several long moments of silence. She moved around the room, kissing each wizard in thanks. When she got to Orion she held it out. "Help me put it on?"

Orion stared at her and then nodded slowly. Hermione pivoted on her heel and held her hair up off her neck. Cool metal slid around her throat and settled against her skin. As Orion fixed the clasp, Hermione reached up to touch the pendant.

The piece was far more ostentatious than any she had ever owned, but it wasn't vulgar. In that moment it seemed to symbolize all of the changes in Hermione's life. She was the sort of witch who wore rubies, and held formal Christmas dinners. But then, she was also the sort of witch that welcomed small werewolves to her home with open arms… so perhaps she wasn't so much changed after all. Some things would change, but at the core she was still herself… still Hermione.

"Are you well, Hermione?" Orion asked softly.

Hermione looked up to see Orion watching her with an inscrutable look in his grey eyes. She nodded and gave him a small smile. His features relaxed and he nodded back. His lips brushed her temple and she pressed into the warmth of his arms.

"Wonderful," she whispered in the silk of his robes. "I feel wonderful."

A/N: Smiths really were regarded as people of mystic/magic power—who had the ability to use fire to harness the secrets of the earth. Blacksmiths especially were treated in an almost reverent manner in many cultures across the world by Bronze Age/Iron Age people. The metallurgical secrets of iron and steel were closely and jealously guarded. So it might be possible that a Muggleborn smith's daughter might be considered a bit more magical than your average Muggleborn.